The Batcave Computer System Is Not A Toy
by Amelia-Maria
Summary: "This is not going to become a habit." Little Dick Grayson just wants to play and Bruce just wants to work. /Snuggles-n'-snark. Prompt requests are graciously accepted.


****Hello, everyone! I'm back (after a bajillion years oh god I'm sorry) with a new story! I wrote this because I was watching Young Justice and decided daddybats and his baby needed some family time. And by family time, I mean ridiculous banter and cuddling(ish).

Hey, so I watched "Batman: Under the Red Hood" the other day. You guys should watch it really no really watch it. Because it's amazing and yes.

Enjoy Dick's snark, Alfred's snark, and Bruce's whining.

I'm still new to this fandom.

I tried. (ugly sobbing).

**Disclaimer: I don't own Batman. I own nothing. Not even my own clothes. Or my laptop. **

* * *

**The Batcave Computer System Is Not A Toy**

"So, can you play video games on this thing?"

Bruce Wayne barely spared Dick Grayson a glance as he entered the name of a criminal suspect into the computer's database. As if he were being blatantly ignored, Dick gave a loud sigh and shuffled forward until he was standing directly next to his mentor's chair.

"Alfred says it's possible to hook up a game system to this," the boy said, gesturing vaguely at the computer console. Bruce made a low, disagreeable sound.

"This system isn't a toy."

"I knew you'd say that," Dick said matter-of-factly, "so Alfred helped me fix the game to the television upstairs."

There was a certain tone to Dick's voice that Bruce knew remarkably well by now. It usually occurred moments before he asked to borrow his cape for a blanket fort, or before he begged Bruce to play with him in the gym an hour before bedtime. Or, Bruce added to his mental filing cabinet, when Dick wanted him to play "Monster Squash II" with him when he _should_ be working.

"I'm not finished with this entry and I still have ten more to add tonight, Dick."

"Okay, but you've been working all day and Alfred says that if you overwork yourself, you get sick," Dick said quickly.

"He says that so you don't spend too much time swinging off the chandeliers."

"Oh, yeah, definitely," Dick said dryly, "I forgot. He says that _you_, in particular, will just have to eventually remember on your own that as a human being, you need an actual break and not a battery charge."

Raising an eyebrow, Bruce turned in his chair to face Dick. "A _battery_ _charge_?"

"You're not a robot. Just eating and sleeping isn't good enough. You gotta have fun sometimes, too."

He was actually being lectured by his nine-year-old _sidekick_. "I go to Wayne Enterprises for new tools."

"That's just _more_ work, not fun."

"You just want me to play video games with you, then."

"Uh, _yeah_. That's why I'm down here being bratty," Dick said with an exasperated wave of his arms. When Bruce only fixed him with an incredulous look, Dick stuffed his hands into the pockets of his sweater with a defeated pout. "Fine." The boy turned and headed for the stairs.

Bruce didn't hear the boy's light footsteps going _up_ the stairs, however.

"I know you're still here, Dick," Bruce said evenly.

There was no answer.

"Sulking up in the rafters won't get you anywhere."

Still, no answer.

Bruce went back to managing the computer database.

* * *

**NAME: CRISTOBÁL R.M. DEMONTAÑA**

**ALIAS: "BRONTOSOREUS"**

**DATE IDENTIFIED: NOVEMBER 17****th****, -**

**AFFILIATION: THE SCALED REX CLUB**

**PAST CRIMINAL ACTIVITY:**

** HOLDING RAMONA WELLS FOR $5000000 RANSOM [FAILED]**

** TERRORIZING GOTHAM CITY'S POLIw**

Another pebble landed on Bruce's keyboard.

** TERRORIZING GOTHAM CITY'S POLIw8**

"Cut it out," Bruce said flatly.

_**backspace**_

** TERRORIZING GOTHAM CITY'S POLICE DEPARTMENT [FAILED]**

** ATTEMPTING TO MAKING DEALINGS WITH "THE RIDDLER" [SUCCEEDED]**

** TAKING PART INqwwaffb**

"This is childish," Bruce said a little louder. A few more pebbles dropped from the rafters in rapid succession. "You're going to damage the system."

Another pebble fell as if to say, "No, I'm not." And then several well-aimed pebbles bounced off the keyboard to spell out a plea.

**play**

"No. You're not even supposed to be up this late," Bruce said, going back to his typing. A larger pebble bounced off the back of his hand. "If you're going to do this, I won't be getting anything done." Bruce folded his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair, unwilling to allow Dick's irksome game to continue. If Bruce thought that simply not participating was going to deter the boy, he was sorely wrong. Right before his eyes, a rain of pebbles and rocks clacked onto the keyboard.

**please**

Bruce reached out and expressionlessly and hit the "backspace" button. More rocks fell.

**pleeease**

_**backspace**_

**pleeeease**

_**backspace**_

**pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease**

Bruce groaned loudly. Above him, Dick's triumphant laughter echoed through the Cave.

* * *

"You certainly have improved your technique for brooding, Master Bruce," Alfred said as he sat a tea tray on the coffeetable. Bruce grunted lowly and shifted around from where he sat on the parlor room rug in front of the television. "Well, I suppose it's for the best. He won't be small enough to fit in your lap forever."

"He's not _in my lap_," Bruce said adamantly, reaching for a mug of tea. Alfred made a soft, amused sound.

"And I'm the President, sir. If you need me, I'll be taking my break in my quarters."

"Hnmph."

Bruce listened to Alfred's retreating footsteps become quieter, and then he looked down at his young ward. After only a half-hour of excitable video gaming, Dick had dozed off mid-game. It wouldn't have been so strange to Bruce if Dick had been sitting beside him or on the couch, but the boy had seated himself directly in front of Bruce during their gaming earlier; now, he was asleep, sprawled back across Bruce lap, game controller resting on his chest and his mouth open. Altogether, it was an unseemly sight.

"Dick," Bruce called quietly, nudging the boy. He expected Dick to suddenly be alert and on his feet, well-trained under the Bat-alarm that frequently sounded in the middle of the night. Because Bruce's lap was (apparently) such a place of safety, Dick felt secure enough to keep on snoozing.

A blanket landed squarely beside Bruce.

"I thought you were retired for the night."

"I needed to make my final rounds," Alfred said, "Do get him to bed. I am too weak and fragile to carry him myself."

"We shouldn't encourage this," Bruce muttered, almost complaining though he picked up the blanket to drape over Dick anyway. With the blanket encasing all of Dick's loose limbs, Bruce stood up, lifting the boy into his arms at the same time. Dick made a quiet disturbed noise in his sleep and lolled his head against Bruce's shoulder. Seeing this, Alfred sent Bruce a knowing smile.

"His pajamas are in his middle drawer."

"_Goodnight_, Alfred," Bruce replied to his butler stoutly. As he carried his burden up the grand staircase, Bruce thought of the data entries he still had to complete, and groaned inwardly.

"This is _not_ going to become a habit."

* * *

_Someone, please give me a prompt. _

_Please review!_


End file.
